The Sun Will Shine
by AristaHolmes
Summary: John is reflecting on the past and on memories and finds a way to overwrite the trigger for bad memmories with something new.


I've been out of the loop 'cause I have a Job now! sorry guys! Just a couple of quick one shots I'm posting tonight. They've not had the spelling or grammar checked beyond what my spell checker picked up, so if you spot anything feel free to let me know.

Hope you're all doing well!

_Love & Hugs; Ari_

**Disclaimer:** _**I do not own Sherlock. If I owned Sherlock, and by default Benedict Cumberbatch, I would not be in my bedroom writing fan fiction. I would be in my bedroom doing other, more interesting things.**_

**The Sun Will Shine**

Sherlock should know by now. It wasn't brain surgery or rocket science that he found John attractive, that was, after all, the reason they'd progressed relationship from "flatmates" to … well more.

So he had to wonder why it still took he breath away when he walked into a room and saw John in a new light. It didn't happen every time... but it happened enough. This time, however, was slightly more literal.

John had pulled on f the armchairs in the living-room round to face the windows, and with sat, his arms crossed and resting on the window sill so he wouldn't hurt his neck at the doctor leant his chin there and gazed out of the window at the street below and the mundane people passing and getting on with their boring little lives.

As the consulting detective absorbed every angle and detail of his lovers face he frowned, echoing the man on the other side of the room unconsciously. It wasn't like John to frown for no reason. Was something wrong? Was he worrying about something? merely puzzling over today's crossword (7 across; packing)...

He brow was creased and his soft mouth turned down and his eyes distant even as they sparkled in the golden sunlight blazing through the windows of 221B, bathing the doctor and softening him until he looked almost ethereal, and warm and utterly beautiful.

It took a few heartbeats for Sherlock to breathe again, but when he did he spotted the corner of John's mouth twitch. "You should know by now that you can't sneak up on me Sherlock..."

"I … uh, I wasn't attempting to"

John's body never moved but for a moment amusement flickered over his face and into his eyes, lighting him up from inside, and drawing Sherlock to his side like a moth to a flame.

"What's wrong?"

Always blunt. Sherlock had considered softening his words, but that wasn't him and he hoped John knew that. True to form the Doctor huffed a small laugh and shook his head, finally, slowly, leaning back in the chair and tipping his head back to gaze at Sherlock

"Nothing in particular, just thinking.. maudlin thoughts really, nothing to worry about-"

"You are"

John stopped and pressed this lips together, and halting Sherlock's arguments instantly. Their eyes held like a thin thread of steel connected them before John finally stretched a hand towards the taller man.

"Come here then"

Linking their fingers, Sherlock moved to perch on the arm of the chair, but John tugged him down with little effort, till the lanky detective was kneeling on the threadbare carpet, trustingly letting John manoeuvre him so that his knees were comfortably spread for balance and his thighs were resting on the heels of his feet, letting him slide between Johns knees and have his back pressing against the warm, sun-drenched leather of the chair, gazing out of the very window John had been staring through.

Nothing immediately caught his notice, nothing out of the ordinary, but he stayed where John had placed him, the Doctors chin resting on his head and slowly, their breathing began to echo each others. Sherlock slowly began to realise that John was opening up over something, something important, something Sherlock couldn't put his finger on yet, but he trusted John and would let himself be show in the Doctors own way.

Soft kisses along the back of his neck, brushing curls of hair out of the way as a soft mouth danced across his skin drew a small shiver from Sherlock and he relaxed more fuly against his lovers thighs even as a hint of moist tongue dragged across he shell of his ear.

"People like the sunlight, Sherlock... It reminds them of picnics on Sunday mornings maybe, or happy childhood moments, apple picking or camping trips"

John nibbled teasingly at the lobe of Sherlock's ear and the detective wrapped long fingers around the calves of Johns legs.

"But when the sunlight hits my face I see light glinting off guns, and I can smell blood and fear. I know it's in the past, but it makes me stop, and think, and sometimes doubt"

His hands drifted down the front of Sherlock's deep plum shirt and tugged a few buttons open, releasing the tension his partners deep breaths were causing and giving him better access to that smooth column of pale creamy skin, almost glittering in the light still streaming through the window.

John continued speaking in a low rumbling voice between soft nips and kisses to the throbbing vein in Sherlock neck, and let his hands drift freely under the thin layer of the detectives shirt.

"I sit like this... So that one day... I might see something outside... something good... something that makes me smile... something only the sunlight shows... something I can remember instead of heat... and sand... and pain..."

When he grazed his teeth over Sherlock's throat, where neck becomes shoulder, and pulled it into his mouth slowly, Sherlock gasped, and writhed lightly, but John held him still, gently, firmly, leaving the detective to gaze out at the sunlight and anticipate his next movements.

"J-John-"

John shushed Sherlock's breathy moan and leant forward, pressing a tender kiss to the very corner of the detectives mouth, even as he let his hands roam lower, and tug softly, and agonisingly slowly at the other man's belt. Sherlock leant further back against John and the armchair, and bit his lips firmly while John slowly peeled back his belt, and his trousers and softly rubbed the rather insistent erection his soft, quiet teasing had produced.

"It doesn't matter how many times I've stared into a bight sunny day, either from a café window, the back of a police car, or from this chair, in our living-room... I've never before seen anything that will drown out Afghanistan"

Sherlock's hips were rocking in time with John's hand, and his mind was beginning to become a blur of sensations. He struggled against it, knowing that the words coming from the man behind him were important, but there's only so much even a consulting genius can take and eventually he gave himself over to the Doctor's skilled hands, and mouth and merely mewled as the pleasure and pressure on Johns hand spiked simultaneously.

"But you drown out everything, Sherlock... You're so... I don't even have words for it, you make me feel whole, and normal, and accepted" Even through his haze, Sherlock could feel, sense, know that John was smiling. The soft, hardly there smile he saved Just for them, and he began to feel a tight heat coiling inside him at the memory of that smile entered his brain, that smile; small, barely there, but Sherlock could feel it like a lightening bolt when his lips were pressed against John's, his tongue tracing it's shape as it probed for entry...

"ah... John, I.."

"Dear God, you look so beautiful Sherlock... I want to watch you come into that sunlight, taint it with something far more pure, something far to good to be touched by the memory of that heat... You have a heat all your own Sherlock, and I can see it blazing inside of you every time you even glance at me-"

Sherlock gasped, and his hips snapped forward without permission form his brain, the cry clamouring up from his chest was smothered as John took his thrown back head and caught the desperate gasps with his tongue.

By the time they'd both regained their breath, and their composure, the sweat was cooling on Sherlock's body and John had begun to place tender butterfly kisses along the detectives forehead.

"What.." Sherlock stopped, and John opened his eyes, that secret smile dancing in his eyes again, prodding Sherlock into continuing.

"If you never found something to... to replace the memories, what kept you trying?" he asked, hesitant to ruin the moment, but the skin round Johns eyes creased as he chuckled, and pressed a tender kiss to Sherlock's nose.

"I'd stare and watch and trying to find something, sometimes for hours, Sherlock... but even when the sun went down,or it started to rain I couldn't give up, because I always knew that the sun would shine again, and I could keep searching for something stronger... Someone to keep the memories at bay"


End file.
